Evolution
by grumkinsnark
Summary: They may have started out as just best friends, but they evolved into something so much deeper than that.


**Evolution**

* * *

><p>Caroline holds to the belief that her mother doesn't care, not really, that she doesn't notice anything unless it's some punk getting into trouble. And for the most part, Liz knows, it's true. She doesn't spend nearly enough time with her daughter, had almost driven her away for good when she initially rejected her being a vampire, but it's not completely true.<p>

_Summer is the most popular time for crime—not that Mystic Falls is exactly a hotspot for run-of-the-mill trouble, but still—and this one is no different. A break-in the night before had caused her a lot of paperwork, and an altercation tonight had done the same. By the time Liz gets back home, it's three a.m., and she's exhausted._

_When she gets inside, she smells what is unmistakably popcorn, and sees in the kitchen sink two sets of dinnerware. She sighs heavily, thinking Caroline must have made dinner for the two of them, but since Liz hadn't come home, she'd decided on a movie by herself—again._

_That changes, though, when she sees a leather jacket slung on the counter, and she frowns; she knows that jacket. She heads into the living room, seeing the television on with the menu of a DVD running on loop, periodically lighting up the room a blue-white. She doesn't focus on it long though, her eyes drawn to the couch._

_Caroline rests there, but not alone as Liz had initially thought. Tyler Lockwood—she _knew_ she recognized the jacket—lays there too, Caroline leaning into his chest with his arm draped over her shoulders. They're both sound asleep, a remote loosely in Tyler's hand and the empty bowl of popcorn next to Caroline teetering dangerously close to the edge._

_Liz considers waking either or both of them, even takes a step forward to do just that, but pauses. There would be no reason to. For once Caroline hadn't had to spend yet another night by herself while Liz worked overtime, for once she had someone there. Liz is nothing short of shocked that it's Tyler of all people (when had they become friends? For the life of her Liz can't remember them ever being so), but Caroline's face is so peaceful she can't bear to ruin it._

_With a small smile, Liz gently saves the empty bowl of popcorn from its imminent peril, shuts off the television, and pulls up the blanket that had dislodged from Tyler and Caroline. Liz softly kisses her daughter's head and sets a brief hand on Tyler's shoulder; he shifts and Caroline frowns, but they don't wake._

_As she relieves herself of all her sheriff gear and climbs into bed, the image of Caroline and Tyler sticks in her brain. She hasn't seen Caroline that worry-free, even in sleep, for a long time, and she hasn't ever seen Tyler so…affectionate. Just lying there, free of the intent to engage in…other activities, satisfied to just hold Caroline. It's a friendship Liz never thought would materialize, and she's wary of it—Tyler's reputation speaks for itself—but if it makes Caroline happy, she has to honor it._

_When she wakes up at six-thirty the next morning, Tyler's gone, but the content look on Caroline's face as she rests on the couch remains._

Caroline isn't home, which is a little odd, but Liz supposes she's with Elena, or Bonnie, or someone. It isn't abnormal for her to be out and about. Still, she was hoping. She dials Caroline's number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

"Caroline, it's Mom. Just coming up for air after a few all-nighters at the station. Thought we'd have lunch and you could remind me I promised not to work so hard," she says, adding a perfunctory chuckle.

Just as she hangs up, she hears a knock on the door and, turning around, she sees it's Tyler. She starts to smile, but then sees his face, and her own drops. It's a look she's seen before, but one she hoped she'd never have to see on someone as young as Tyler. Unadulterated worry and dread. Her chest constricts, but she tries to keep her head.

The second she opens the door, Tyler rushes inside, words going a mile a minute. "He has her," Tyler spills. "He has her locked up and I don't know where, my mom doesn't know, but he has her, and she's hurt, and _we have to find her_."

"Tyler!" Liz yells—for the third time—to stop him. He does, but there's still unchecked concern in his eyes. "Slow down. What happened?"

"Caroline's father took her. My mom found out she's a vampire, I don't know how, and handed her over because that's what the Council does, but I showed her I'm—she changed her mind and said she'd help Caroline, but she doesn't know where she is. Bill's doing something to her, I can feel it."

"Wait, _you_ know about vampires?" asks Liz incredulously.

"Is that really important right now?" Tyler snaps. "If I have to tear apart all of Virginia to find her, I will. But it'd go a hell of a lot faster if you help me. You were married to the bastard—does he have any cellars or torture chambers or something? Liz, I need your help."

She thinks it is damn important to find out how Tyler knows, but he's right: it's not important _now_. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to maintain her calm. She should have guessed. Bill hadn't had the same chance that she did to see a different side of vampires. She knows Bill—he'd see Caroline as a vampire first, a daughter second. Liz shivers at what he could be doing to her right this very minute.

Something else she knows about Bill though, is that he's not very creative. She knows his family had a containment chamber built for keeping vampires long ago, just outside of Mystic Falls. In a location that's completely hidden except for those who know where it is. And she does.

She snaps her eyes back open and puts her hands on Tyler's shoulders to stop his pacing. "Tyler, listen to me," she commands. "I need you to calm down, okay? You being worked up is not going to help Caroline."

Tyler takes a breath, trying desperately to do as she says. After a few moments, though his heart still races, his mind is still. (As still as it can be, anyway.) "What do we do?" he asks.

Sympathy courses through Liz as she stares at Tyler. In his face, in his voice, there's more than worry for a friend. Just—_more_. And though this is hardly the time, she realizes what it means.

_As summer winds down, Liz coming home to see Tyler there is almost expected. For the life of her, Liz still doesn't know how his and Caroline's friendship had come to be, and it was definitely weird at first, but she's gotten used to it. She can't count the amount of times she's asked Tyler what he wants for dinner (when she can actually be there for dinner, that is), or found Tyler asleep on the couch with Caroline under his arm, or how Caroline's face would light up as she talked to him on the phone._

_She and Carol Lockwood had spoken of it a few times, both marveling at the changes. Carol especially, how ever since Tyler had befriended Caroline, he'd done a complete one-eighty in personality. "Caroline's so good for him," she'd said on many an occasion. Liz would just smile, but couldn't help thinking the opposite was true as well. Caroline had become such a confident and strong young woman since becoming a vampire—something Liz would never have thought possible not long ago—but having Tyler around her all the time, Liz could see a difference. Finally there was someone who could keep up with her, have as sharp a wit as her, yet who wanted nothing more than friendship, and that's something Liz appreciates more than words can describe._

_Eventually, though, she begins to notice a revision. It's subtle, and he keeps it pretty well under wraps, but she notices. A couple weeks before summer ends, Carol throws one of her rendezvous; it's nothing fancy, just a Sunday luncheon, but Caroline insists on looking her best (though Liz assures her she always does)._

_Liz didn't know specifically that Tyler would be coming over, but when he rings the doorbell, she's not surprised. "Come on in," she says. "Caroline should be down in a minute."_

_He's dressed like Carol would want, Liz observes with an internal chuckle: a pressed button-up shirt, black tie, and nice shoes that look new. He did get away with wearing jeans, however, and just imagining the conversation that had resulted in that is highly entertaining._

"_Caroline!" Tyler yells. "It's a luncheon, not the prom!"_

_Liz glances over at him, but he shrugs. "She does this every time," he says, as if Liz weren't already aware. He says it as a sigh, but there's no menace behind it, not even any irritation. Just—_

"_All right, all right, I'm coming," calls Caroline._

_She comes to the landing and descends the stairs, her blonde curls bouncing and lips shining with gloss. She wears a light pink dress that reaches to just past her knees, tied with a ribbon around her waist, her off-white heels and winning smile finishing it off._

"_How do I look?" she asks, giving a little twirl._

_Tyler says nothing for a moment, and then, "You look perfect."_

_There's a loaded silence, during which Liz glances between the two of them. Caroline holds Tyler's eyes, a demure, almost shy, smile playing at her lips, and Tyler…Liz raises her eyebrows a bit. How Caroline can't see it, Liz has no idea. But there's adoration there, adoration captured in one expression displayed all over his face. His words were more than a simple compliment._

_The next second, however, Tyler jolts out of it and offers his arm. "Shall we?" he inquires, grinning down at her. "Just so you know, this is going to be unbearable for me. You're sitting through _The Departed_."_

_Caroline laughs, "Not a chance," and Liz knows she'll get her way._

It was the most horrific time in her life, having to rescue her daughter from being tortured by Caroline's own father, and she'd wanted to shoot him full of lead right then and there. She's honestly at a loss as to how she refrained. She'd also considered not bringing Tyler—"You're only a kid, I don't want you to get hurt too!"—but there was a fire in his eyes that told her he was coming whether she liked it or not.

She's not sure how Tyler managed to break the manacles on Caroline's wrists and ankles with such ease, but at the time it was the farthest thing from her mind. Watching Tyler carry out Caroline, his expression sheer pain because of the agony on Caroline's, knowing her ex-husband had caused it all…she didn't shoot him dead, but she did send a bullet through his foot, preventing any hope of escape.

She still hasn't figured out what to do with him yet, but once she made sure he was firmly behind bars, she drove home faster than she ever has. Tyler had put Caroline upstairs, but vacated the room as soon as Liz arrived, giving them time.

She had to admit, seeing Caroline drain two blood bags as if she were sick and they were chicken soup was surreal, but she didn't care. She just wanted her _better_. She could tell Caroline was preventing herself from breaking down by means of duct tape and string, but she was impressed Caroline was doing even that much. She can't even fathom the pain she must have gone through…

Tyler hadn't been able to stay away for long, though, and Liz bowed out swiftly, leaving them be.

Hours later, she went to check on them. She would head to bed with a bittersweet smile on her face and her realization from earlier crystal clear.

_If he looks up, she's fully aware he could see her standing there, but he doesn't. Sleep had not yet claimed Caroline, and she continues to sob, her head buried in Tyler's shoulder and hand fisted in his shirt. Tyler stares down at her, pressing his lips to her head and rhythmically stroking her back. He holds her tight, as if by doing so he can glue her back together, can take away the nightmares and the pain._

_But Liz can see more beyond that. She'd seen Matt and Caroline together, knew they'd said the "L" word to each other, but what she clandestinely sees now is different. Tyler's face is so much more than what she'd ever seen on Matt, and the amount of vulnerability and trust Liz sees Caroline put in him is more than she had ever put even in Liz herself. There's no pretense, no attempt to hide her anguish or her tears, there's no judgment on Tyler's part or empty promises. Just comfort._

_And love._

_It's plain as day now—truthfully, if she thinks on it, it was plain as day months ago. They may have started out as just best friends, but they had evolved into something so much deeper than that. A part of Liz wants to rationalize that they're just seventeen, that they don't know anything about love yet, but she knows that's not the case, not with these two. What is so obvious between them is the very epitome of it._

_She was skeptical at first, is still skeptical now, but it doesn't matter. She doesn't know how Tyler's conscious of the existence of vampires, but the fact that he so clearly accepts Caroline being one, that he so clearly accepts every other facet of hers, vampiric or otherwise, Liz couldn't ask for anything more. The Tyler Liz knew for years and years is not the same one before her now; this Tyler is better, to everyone but to Caroline most of all._

_Liz hopes she never again has to see the look Tyler showed that afternoon when he came to their house in a panic, and she hopes she never again has to see the look on Caroline's face now, but what the two of them share, well. That's something she hopes will never be taken away._


End file.
